Pet
by BlueIsDead
Summary: Donald has always felt like the whole universe is against him and while it may be slightly true, there seems to be something else that has been pulling his strings for years as well. Something he had forgotten. And now, that thing has decided to show it's true colors


_A car crash, a very fast one at that._

_The whole family was there, Hortense, Quackmore, his sister and of course Donald. All happened so quickly but Donald remembered every single second of it, from when he was conscious at least. When he finally woke up though, it was all too late. He saw them, right there. Soundless and still. He tried to shake them a bit, tried to wake them up. But it was all for naught._

_Quackmore Duck and Hortense Mcduck were dead._

_His sister woke up soon after, only to find her lifeless parents and crying brother in the car. She did almost the same things as Donald did and burst into tears afterwards._

* * *

**Pet : A Disney fanfiction about demons inside**

Prologue

Cry, all he could do was cry. To be honest, it's not even surprising when your own parents are dead.

Donald didn't come out of his room, he didn't want to nor did he even realize that there was an outside world besides his room. He couldn't feel anything except borderline depression and sadness. Voices in his head kept screaming "THEY'RE DEAD, THEY'RE DEAD" with mocking tones.

Matilda (Donald's aunt) was, of course, worried. This wasn't like him. No, no… this was the exact opposite of what Donald was. He was loud, cheerful and full of energy, a perfect example of a lovable brat. Now and then, the older female waterfowl would check on him, just to see him sitting in a corner, sniffling and having his hands all over his head. She also tried to talk to him but he never answered. He didn't even look at her. Donald's twin, Della, also tried this, but the result was always the same.

Truly heartbreaking…

**XxxxxXxxxxX**

A week passes, he's still in the room but now, he's gotten himself a mantra. Instead of the voices saying it, he himself was repeating the same line: "They're dead, they're dead". He also finally got out of the corner. Though, those were the only things that had changed. He still couldn't hear his family's voices calling for him and it seemed that he couldn't even see them even if they were standing right in front of him. He was in his own world, his own sorrowful world.

Once in a while he looked at himself in the mirror and then blamed himself for what had happened. I was there and couldn't do anything, is what he thought. He hated himself for that. He punched the mirror sometimes, his reflection to be exact. The reflection didn't break, his depression was too strong for him to do a decent punch. It was more like helpless flailing than anything, mixed with crying noises.

And again, he was doing it, weeping, continuing his mantra and "punching" the mirror at the same time. His only objective right at that moment was to just to do that. Maybe it would actually do something, who knows. And he kept on and on, until:

"_**Hey, why are you flailing at the mirror?"**_

Donald stopped. This was a new voice, a different tone which was almost sincere and a bit distorted yet it sounded like his voice. His tears stopped and he raised his head.

His reflection was in a totally different pose.

He jumped in surprise. What in the name of all that is holy was with the mirror? He scooted backwards from the mirror until he hit the floor but he still stared at the mirror. The reflection didn't seem surprised, it just stared back. And for a while, it was just a some sort of staring contest between them.

Finally, the reflection laughed and… Donald could hear it. It was the same voice.

"_**You should have a look at your face, it's so priceless!"**_

For once, he forgot about the sadness and got offended, like he would be normally. He had actually gotten a part of himself out after a long time. Donald stood up, angry at the laughter: "Hey, what's the big idea?!"

"_**Oh my… so you do have other emotions! Good, I wasn't really looking forward to talking with a sad mess like you"**_

The reflection stopped the laughter, replacing it with a smug look. He eyed Donald through and through, almost like it was staring at his soul. It slightly creeped Donald out.

"_**Now then… answer my question: Why are you flailing at the mirror?"**_

Donald hesitated. He was still angry but also frightened. He gripped his fist, looking to be ready for a fight. He grit his teeth together and tears came out of his eyes again. His sorrow had come back, with an extra kick. He collapsed on the floor and finally shouted out:

"MY PARENTS DIED AND I COULDN'T DO ANYTHING!"

The reflection was still, staring at the crying child. He just made a simple 'huh' for a response. Donald got a hold of himself and stared at the mirror again. His supposed reflection seemed to be thinking. What about though? His incompetence maybe? He did not know.

Donald slowly approached the mirror.

"_**Yeah… that would be something. Hehehe"**_

"What would be something?", Donald asked, now standing right in front of the other him. The reflection turned his smug gaze at the boy.

"_**You seem pretty depressed and I feel like helping you. So, what would you think of that?"**_

Help? Him? But the thing was in the mirror. How could it help him?

"And how exactly could you do that?", the boy asked, skeptical of the fact that his reflection would be any help for him. The thing snickered again, making Donald a bit irritated.

"_**Oh I can actually do a lot of things. I have the power, see. Interested?"**_

The avian couldn't deny that he was a bit curious.

"A little, I guess"

"_**Perfect!"**_ The reflected version of Donald then made an "ehem" sound and continued: _**"As it is code that the dead stay dead, I can offer you something that could help your current situation"**_

"And that is?"

"_**Ignorance"**_

Donald was confused. Ignorance? Why would he ever want that? The boy then replied: "Well, that's a dumb offer"

"_**Ohohoh, but listen"**_

And he did.

"_**By ignorance I mean I can help you forget. Forget about your dead parents, that is. And with that, you can feel happiness again! What do you say?"**_

Well, he said nothing at first. The whole concept of actually forgetting what happened was so astounding for him. There was no way for that to happen, right? Right?

"_**For that though, you need to do something in return"**_

"…what?", Donald asked, ready to negotiate. He actually wanted to forget.

"_**I need to live inside of you for that. See, that way I can absorb your memoirs and make you forget"**_

Now Donald was really confused. The reflection noticed it:

"_**Trust me. As I said, I can do a looooot of things. You just have to let me inside of you, hmm?"**_

Many voices in his head begged for him to say yes. There were slight sounds which said otherwise but the majority was a lot louder. He could've just forgotten about it, he could be happy again yet was that what he really wanted? To forget his own parents? The memories with them? Would it all be worth it? So many questions and no answer… or was there?

"…okay", he answered finally.

"_**Excellent choice, boy… excellent indeed"**_

It happened fast. Not even a second and Donald could feel something invisible crawling through his mouth to get inside of him. It felt horrifying, he couldn't breathe. Desperately he gasped for air but it was almost impossible. Donald fell on the floor with his hands on his neck.

When he finally could catch a breath, he felt dizzy. The room was moving and just out of place. The young one tried to get a hold of the edge of his bed only to then again fall on the floor, this time, fainting. Before closing his eyes he could hear the distorted voice again saying: _**"Ignorance is bliss, pet. Remember it"**_

**XxxxxXxxxxX**

Not long after, Donald woke up, puzzled. Why was he on the floor? Maybe he had slipped from his bed while moving in his sleep, he figured. The duckling stood up and felt a sudden pounding in his head. It was quite strong.

"Oww"

When the pounding started to slowly fade away, he turned to where his door was. His stomach was growling, almost violently. So, he took off and opened his door, yelling: "Aunt Matilda! I'm hungry!"

* * *

**I MADE FANFICTION AFTER LIKE TWO OR THREE YEARS**

**HUZZAAH!**

**And it's Donald centric again because I'm trash that way**

**I'm gonna actually continue this but I'm still lazy as ever so be patient with me. Until next time, luvs!**


End file.
